


Four Times They Were Both Idiots and One Time They Were Kissing Idiots

by melodramaqueen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Idiots in Love, Jealous Arthur, M/M, Mutual Pining, castle gossip is a brilliant thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodramaqueen/pseuds/melodramaqueen
Summary: Alternatively: Four times Prince Arthur caught his manservant in compromising positions with various ladies of the Court and one time he was put in a rather compromising position himself.





	

Merlin scrambled to get back up on his feet, banging his head on a nearby table and causing the vase resting on it to fall. “S-Sire… it’s not what it looks like.”

Arthur’s face was curiously blank, as it had been since he had rounded the corner to stumble across Merlin on his knees with Gwen’s skirt pulled over his head in the middle of the corridor. His lips were pressed against each other in a thin line as he looked at the two of them.

Unfortunately, the angle he was standing at made it impossible for him to see that only the topmost layer from the three-layered skirt Gwen was wearing was on Merlin’s head where it had fallen as he struggled to help her untangle the second layer from where it had gotten caught in her heels earlier and torn. The ragged edge had been tripping her up all evening. She had almost spilled wine onto Morgana’s dress earlier and shot him a look so exasperated he had motioned her to meet him outside for a second so he could fix it.

 “Your Highness, Arthur, it’s…” said Gwen.

He held up a hand imperiously, looking so much like Uther that Gwen was almost frightened for a second.

“My apologies,” he said, “for interrupting.” He opened his mouth to say more and snapped it shut, anger peeking through his formality. “Is the middle of a feast really the best time for this?” he said savagely and without giving either of them a chance to reply, he turned around and left.

In the awkward silence that followed, Gwen and Merlin stared at each other.

“We are never going to speak of this, are we?”

“Never ever as long we both shall live,” she agreed.

-

“The flowers were pathetic enough to be amusing, Merlin but the pendant is stretching the limits of my father’s good humour.”

“Your father’s good humour?” said Merlin, trying and failing to picture Uther grinning. He shuddered a little as it was a rather horrifying thought.

“You may well shiver,” said Arthur, tossing his cloak onto his bed like he didn’t care about the extra work it meant for his poor manservant to leave his clothes just strewn about all over the place. “When father finds out you’ve been giving his ward these little gifts…”

“Moragana!” Merlin’s voice was little more than a horrified squeak, “Arthur, I would never –”

“ _Lady_ Morgana,” said Arthur sharply, “is not someone you are ever going to be in any position whatsoever to court.”

“I’m not trying to court her!”

“Really?” Arthur’s eyes had a strange glint in them as he regarded Merlin. “Then what do you call the pendant you gave her?”

_“A means to rid her of the evil presence that attached itself to her due to the attempts of an exceptionally love-struck knight last tourney to force her to return his affections via magical means?”_ he thought, even as he stuttered, “Uhh…”

The prince snorted, sitting down on his bed and spreading his arms wide. “I’m waiting, Merlin.”

“It was a Get Well soon present!”

He arched an eyebrow sceptically. “Morgana has been her usual unfortunately healthy self all season.”

“More of a Stay Well present then?” said Merlin, with a weak grin. “Although she looked a bit peaky around the tourney, if you ask me.”

“Thank you for your input, Merlin,” said Arthur, rising from his bed. “But nobody asked you to keep such a close eye on her.”

“No, Arthur!" At the prince's glare, he added hurriedly, "Of course not, sire!”

He picked up his cloak and flung it at Merlin. “Don’t be late with my breakfast tomorrow. I’ll undress myself tonight.”

-

The Lady Andrea was charming and sweet and beautiful. As she walked through the streets of Camelot, hand-in-hand with the Crown Prince who was showing her around, more than one passer-by remarked on what a beautiful pair the two made.

It was a pity she was actually a shapeshifting demon intent of sucking the souls of those powerful among mortals to enhance her own immortality.

Her three heads were clearly visible to those with magic, as she had clearly not anticipated meeting any such in Camelot given its reputation and so neglected to bother with more than a flimsy transformation spell. Merlin found them oddly fascinating as they swayed in the morning breeze and hissed. He sighed as he followed the couple, barely a step behind Arthur and received a light cuff to his head for his troubles.

“If you’re done sighing over the Lady Andrea’s beauty, Merlin,” said Arthur, “We would appreciate it if you could go get us our horses. It is time for us to head back for the banquet.”

Merlin searched desperately for a reason to not leave them alone. “You should come with me?”

“To fetch the horses?” Arthur looked at him as though he were daft.

“Yes! It’ll be a fine walk, the sun is still out…” he rambled on.

“Merlin, the horses are barely a kilometre behind us.”

“Exactly! A whole kilometre! Think of how good it will be for your health, after all that you ate last night!”

“Merlin, I am not fat,” said Arthur his voice acquiring the dangerous tone that usually preceded him ordering his errant manservant to go spend some time in the stocks (although that had been happening less and less lately for some reason). “Stop embarrassing yourself and go fetch our horses.”

Luckily, one of the stable hands was passing by just then, whistling and clearly enjoying his evening off. “Aaron!” yelled Merlin, hailing him with visible relief. “Would you go fetch the prince and milady’s horses? I’ll pay you.” He pulled a few coins out of his own pocket and handed them over.

Aaron shrugged, not willing to look a gift horse in the form of some extra money in the mouth and went off to fetch the horses.

Merlin turned back to Arthur, to find him regarding him with an odd expression. “I hope you realise,” said Arthur slowly, “that I am not going to recompense you for that particular expense.”

“What?” yelped Merlin. “Arthur you said to all expenses for today out of the bag of gold you gave me this morning! I don’t have money to lend you for the honeysuckle biscuits you bought or the comb or…”

Arthur huffed, clearly annoyed, and grabbed his manservant by the arm, saying, “Just a moment please, Lady Andrea,” before dragging him to a corner.

“Merlin,” said Arthur, almost gently. “I am not interested in the Lady Andrea.”

“Good?” said Merlin, confused. At least this way they could avoid another Sophia-situation, he supposed.

“However, you need to stop looking at noble ladies like that. It would be quite disastrous for you to be caught with one. My father could have you dismissed if he believed you had trifled with their honour.”

And then he walked back to Lady Andrea, leaving a gaping Merlin in his wake. It took her snake heads hissing rather nefariously, as she bent her illusory human head closer to Arthur’s, to jerk him out of his daze. There was, as always, a magical threat to be dealt with and any drama in his own personal life would just have to wait.

-

“That’s quite enough Merlin!” said Arthur, bursting into the laundry room.

The maids’ giggles over Brenda’s latest tale subsided as they saw the Crown Prince glaring at Merlin where he stood in their midst, happy as always to share in the latest gossip. “I was just listening to –”

“I don’t care! Follow me to my chambers this instant!”

“I bet that’s what he said,” whispered the irrepressible manservant in Brenda’s ear as he left, and she had to choke back a chuckle.

“Merlin!”

“Coming, sire!”

“Now that,” muttered Tilda as he hurried forward, “I’m certain he did say.” And Merlin couldn’t quite keep his laughter in as he followed his irate prince up the stairs and into his room.

“I’ve had it!” shouted Arthur. “I have absolutely had it with your – your philandering, Merlin!”

His smile fell as he gaped at Arthur. “My what?”

“Are you attempting to court every single woman in this castle? In Camelot?” he questioned, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sire,” said Merlin, bewildered.   

“Oh don’t play the fool. It suits you admirably but it won’t do on this occasion.”

Looking at his still puzzled expression, Arthur took a deep breath and said. “Look, Merlin. Your affections are quite obvious and, most of the time, quite inappropriate.”

“Oh,” said Merlin, paling. He took a step back. He thought he had been quite subtle about it, covered up his ridiculous crush on the prince quite admirably but it seemed… He swallowed. “I will endeavour not to embarrass you in the future, sire.”

“It’s not – I’m not telling you to stop loving, you idiot, so quit looking like I just ordered you to spend a week in the stocks. It’s just that you need to re-focus your attentions. Hopefully, somewhere more suited to you.”

A blaze of anger shot through Merlin. “You pompous prat! You can’t just order me to stop loving you and ‘re-focus’ on other people!”

“I- You – What?” spluttered Arthur, shaking his head as though to clear it. “You love women! All of them apparently, if the way you have been acting these past few months is any indication! And I heard you downstairs, telling the maids that risqué story about your lover from the Lower Town and her brother!”

“That was Brenda!”

“Huh, you really do have a girl’s voice.”

“Or maybe I just have a judgmental, paranoid master who draws conclusions without looking things through!”

“But I saw you! Earlier, with Gwen and Morgana and who knows how many others besides!”

“Well then,” said Merlin, “sounds like you have everything sorted in your head then, Your Highness.”

“You can’t love me!”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear.”

“No, but, I love you too!”

Arthur’s clear blue eyes were so honestly lost as they looked at him that despite everything, Merlin felt his heart ache for his prince. Had nobody whom the Crown Prince of Camelot loved ever openly loved him back? Uther, Morgana, his tutors, surely there must have been somebody in Arthur’s life who had loved him as he deserved to be?

“Well, I can and I will,” he shot back finally. He picked up a pile of clothes that were probably meant for the laundry to busy his hands before they did something ridiculous, like grabbing the Crown Prince of Camelot and wandering over his royal person, and stalked out of the room.

-

“Merlin?”

Arthur’s voice was unusually subdued but Merlin whirled around nonetheless with a face so full of indignation that Gwaine’s eyebrows rose. The two had been standing the practice grounds, as the knight attempted to convince him to come down to the tavern with him after a hard day of practice.

“What? _What?_ Am I not allowed to talk to men any more either, sire? Oh no, Gwaine is a knight of Camelot, isn’t he?” He turned back to Gwaine who had been trying to not-so-subtly walk away and said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Sorry Gwaine, you’re too far above my station for me to aspire to.”

Arthur flushed a little and said, “That’s enough, Merlin.”

“No, no, please. By all means, Your Royal Highness, tell me more about my…” Merlin was red-faced and out of breath, waving his hands about as he spoke and most of the knights around the field had stuck around to watch the newest episode of their favourite daily spectacle of the prince and his manservant. Arthur took a look as the most famous warriors in Albion laughed indulgently at his idiot’s antics and grabbed Merlin’s bicep, dragging him away.

“Throwing me in the stocks yourself, sire? Are you sure your station permits it?”

Arthur ignored him and reached his destination, an old storage room that was now largely abandoned except by the mice chased out of the main castle rooms by cook’s beloved monster of a cat. He shoved Merlin in and shut the door behind him.

Merlin’s eyes had gone rather wide. “Erm, sire? If you’re finally following through on your threat of…”

Arthur to a step closer to him and he stepped back, back hitting the wall behind him. “Sire?” he repeated uncertainly.

“Shut up Merlin,” said Arthur, now standing so close to him that their breaths mingled.

“Well, I would but I do tend to ramble when I get nervous and I must warn you that you are making me exceedingly…”

And then Arthur kissed him.

Merlin hesitated for a moment and then figured he could investigate what insane alchemy in the prince’s brain had caused him to take this amazingly pleasurable step later. The present was meant for enjoying the fact that Arthur really was as utterly fantastic a kisser as the castle gossip had made him out to be, damn him.

After a few minutes though, he drew back. Merlin grabbed his shirt, saying ( _not_ plaintively at all), “What?”

“Am I still making you nervous?” said Arthur teasingly. But there was still a hint of insecurity in his eyes, as though he wasn’t quite sure of Merlin’s response and that was so ridiculous and so Arthur that there really was only one reply Merlin could give.

“Well,” he said, “It does seem as though you will shortly be following through with your threat of running me through with your sword.”

“Merlin!”

 


End file.
